Post by draxx on Oct 12, 2009 22:12:55 GMT -6
Shapeshifter Form.
.OOC Information.
OOC name -- Draxx
Activity Level -- Medium to High
Current Characters-- N/A
How you found Wasted Skies-- ~BannahSammish~
.Character Information.
Full Name -- Coco Ferras
Nickname -- Coconut, because she's hard headed like one.
Gender -- Female
Age -- Twenty-three
Job -- Street Worker
First Form -- Swallow
Second Form -- Elf Owl
Last Form -- Humming Bird
Likes --
Dislikes --
.Character Appearance.
Eye Color -- Brown, with a smattering of gold around the iris. At the age of five, Coco suffered an eye injury that penetrated and formed a heterochormia of her right eye at the very top; a pale blue color where the melanin has gone. She also doesn't see as well from that eye.
Eternal Trait -- Her eyes, specifically the lack of pigmintation in the right.
Height -- 5'4"
Weight -- 134 lbs
Overall Appearance -- Coco is of a slim build, yet with her small stature she's a bit curvier and slightly thicker in the hips and legs. Despite the current living conditions she's found herself in and the overall 'duck and run' strategy, Coco took good care of herself. Her skin is smooth, albeit dirty many nights from her running, sitting around in alley ways or the general nature of her work. She doesn't scar or bruise very easily which is a character trait she appreciates in her line of living. Coco's lips are full and nearly the same color as her skin, a pale tan that covers from the tip of her head down to each of her little toes.
Deep chocolate is the color of Coco's eyes, framed around the middle by a vibrant golden hue. Yet at the age of five, she suffered from an eye injury where she was lucky to the keep the majority of sight in her right eye. However, she's left with a reminder for the rest of her life where the pigment on the upper portion of her eye has deteriorated and left with a pale, ghostly blue.
Her style ranges from human thrift stores to finding pretty fabrics she likes and sewing them together. Coco found an old sewing machine that really, is nearly on it's last legs in the trash bin of a human but kept it none the less and tried to fix it up a bit. So instead of being terribly picky on an old skirt or a granny-ish dress, Coco would rather pull it apart and make it into something new rather than spend the money that she could use somewhere more useful.
.Personal Character Information.
Personality -- Because of her upbringing and now her street life, Coco sees things in a dark red light; angry at the humans for tearing apart her home and killing their way of life, sad for the conditions the people have to live amongst. She doesn't want to hide, she wants to live her life on her own home planet without having to run like a fugitive. Yet sadly, not everything is meant to be like in a story book.
She really isn't the hateful person displayed on the outside for everyone to see. On the inside, Coco loves friends, even though she's afraid to have too many and would do whatever needs to be done to help them. This isn't a 'everyone for themselves' world, if that was the case then she wouldn't be where she is today.
That doesn't mean she goes looking for trouble or walks up to the first friendly face she sees. Looks can be discieving and Coco doesn't ever want anyone to hurt the ones who watch out for her because of a misconception. She enjoys a lot of the simpler things in life that most take for granted. Finding a book to read, sitting out in an open field and listening to all the sounds around or just taking a walk without anyone to bother her or any worries in the world.
History --
The integration of the humans on to Coco's planet was tough on a girl who's parents already held disdain and fear for strange creatures coming to take over their home. And that was just what they planted into her mind; they were coming to take what was hers. The day they landed, Coco was only ten years old and full of curiosity and bright, seeking eyes. She wanted to see these people who technically looked just like them but who her parents said were unwanted. But if they were so unwanted, why were there parties being thrown for them?
She didn't understand but for one so young, it took little to fully sway her opinions of these new comers the older she became. Coco had never been a fighter, not in all her years of dancing and singing in her over sized sunglasses and cute piggy tails. Yet once the war broke out, the small girl who had flowered into a teenager ready to leave home and make something of herself, felt it all crashing down around her.
She knew it would come. The fights and criticism and somehow, Coco also knew her parents would be right there in the middle of it. When her parents had been killed and her home destroyed, Coco's parents had been plotting the day for weeks, placing her at a friend's house to spend the night and this was also where she learned the news. At exactly 4 a.m., her friend's mother woke the girl up with the terrible news and warning to run as far as possible, onto the streets with nothing but her pajama's and the knowledge she had nothing to look forward to except death or a place in some rat trap street corner.
Since then, Coco changed her name to something new, something to blend in with the human's around her that she picked out in a magazine. She refuses to remember her real name, can't even think of it but the bottle of Coco Channel parfum and the strange cars back on Earth, ferrari's. Really, she did a horrid job of picking an inconspicuous name but it gets her by and that's all that matters for the time being.
Coco had never really been frightened of human's before everything happened but now she's terrified of them, terrified of what they may do to her. She's too scared to hide in the wilderness and too dependent on the things she grew up on, and that's the only thing tying the woman to dirty streets and bars of The Stretch.
These places have become a home for her. Drugs, violence and dancing aren't anything new but a paycheck in her eyes and something to buy her some food when she's hungry and a place to sleep at. Coco's afraid that one day someone will rat her out, turn her over to the SEG and for that reason she keeps her ties with anyone else cut to a bare minimum of business deals. The only ones she trusts are those like herself, the same ones who struggle to maintain existance.
.RP Example.
From another site:
Deep, pounding music blared from the speakers posted in every corner imaginable, sweat-slicked bodies pack dead on top one another as they danced and sloshed beer with the rhythm of music filling their ears. It was Kid Rock's American Badass pounding out, several pairs of boots slamming against the metal bar as five girls danced wildly to the beat. Large pitchers of water flew in every direction, soaking not only the Coyotes' but also the customers filling up for a drink. "Move over, kid." Ana's voice rang against the music, pushing the new girl behind the bar out of the way and slamming down four shot glasses each. "Give me Jack and coke." One man strained to yell over the knocking base, sweat pouring down his face and soaking his once neatly pressed white shirt.
"We don't water down our drinks here, darlin'." With a flick the bottle of jack flipped into the air, several pairs of eyes watching it in rapt fascination as it spun twice and landed back in Ana's hands. The nozzle tipped and whiskey poured across the bar. "Thas three bucks a shot, keep it movin' guys." She plucked the wad of money and slid the glasses down, taking the last and tipping it quick before slamming the glass down with a resounding thud. Several splashes of water soaked her hair as the whiskey burned it's way down, a wolfish grin spreading across her face.
She was too drunk to notice the small group of vampires edging their way along the back corner, or the little wolf girl cradled almost lovingly in their arms. Hell, at this point the roof of her bar could fall down and she wouldn't give half a damn. The thick aroma of human sweat and her clouded mind masked the sickly sweet smell that would normally overwhelm her sense. The bottles kept coming and she kept hitting the cap opener, the thundering boots pounding along as the music switched records and a new song came along with barely a pause in play. It was too late by the time she tripped backwards, stumbling into the freezer door and pushing it open with a loud barking laugh to retrieve another case of 'supplies.' Ana never once noticed the five figures waiting for her alone in the cold freezer room.
.OOC Information.
OOC name -- Draxx
Activity Level -- Medium to High
Current Characters-- N/A
How you found Wasted Skies-- ~BannahSammish~
.Character Information.
Full Name -- Coco Ferras
Nickname -- Coconut, because she's hard headed like one.
Gender -- Female
Age -- Twenty-three
Job -- Street Worker
First Form -- Swallow
Second Form -- Elf Owl
Last Form -- Humming Bird
Likes --
- Chocolates, candy
- Dancing, singing
- Clothing, makeup
Dislikes --
- SEG, humans in general
- Her work and living conditions
- Horrible things like mushroom, yuck!
.Character Appearance.
Eye Color -- Brown, with a smattering of gold around the iris. At the age of five, Coco suffered an eye injury that penetrated and formed a heterochormia of her right eye at the very top; a pale blue color where the melanin has gone. She also doesn't see as well from that eye.
Eternal Trait -- Her eyes, specifically the lack of pigmintation in the right.
Height -- 5'4"
Weight -- 134 lbs
Overall Appearance -- Coco is of a slim build, yet with her small stature she's a bit curvier and slightly thicker in the hips and legs. Despite the current living conditions she's found herself in and the overall 'duck and run' strategy, Coco took good care of herself. Her skin is smooth, albeit dirty many nights from her running, sitting around in alley ways or the general nature of her work. She doesn't scar or bruise very easily which is a character trait she appreciates in her line of living. Coco's lips are full and nearly the same color as her skin, a pale tan that covers from the tip of her head down to each of her little toes.
Deep chocolate is the color of Coco's eyes, framed around the middle by a vibrant golden hue. Yet at the age of five, she suffered from an eye injury where she was lucky to the keep the majority of sight in her right eye. However, she's left with a reminder for the rest of her life where the pigment on the upper portion of her eye has deteriorated and left with a pale, ghostly blue.
Her style ranges from human thrift stores to finding pretty fabrics she likes and sewing them together. Coco found an old sewing machine that really, is nearly on it's last legs in the trash bin of a human but kept it none the less and tried to fix it up a bit. So instead of being terribly picky on an old skirt or a granny-ish dress, Coco would rather pull it apart and make it into something new rather than spend the money that she could use somewhere more useful.
.Personal Character Information.
Personality -- Because of her upbringing and now her street life, Coco sees things in a dark red light; angry at the humans for tearing apart her home and killing their way of life, sad for the conditions the people have to live amongst. She doesn't want to hide, she wants to live her life on her own home planet without having to run like a fugitive. Yet sadly, not everything is meant to be like in a story book.
She really isn't the hateful person displayed on the outside for everyone to see. On the inside, Coco loves friends, even though she's afraid to have too many and would do whatever needs to be done to help them. This isn't a 'everyone for themselves' world, if that was the case then she wouldn't be where she is today.
That doesn't mean she goes looking for trouble or walks up to the first friendly face she sees. Looks can be discieving and Coco doesn't ever want anyone to hurt the ones who watch out for her because of a misconception. She enjoys a lot of the simpler things in life that most take for granted. Finding a book to read, sitting out in an open field and listening to all the sounds around or just taking a walk without anyone to bother her or any worries in the world.
History --
The integration of the humans on to Coco's planet was tough on a girl who's parents already held disdain and fear for strange creatures coming to take over their home. And that was just what they planted into her mind; they were coming to take what was hers. The day they landed, Coco was only ten years old and full of curiosity and bright, seeking eyes. She wanted to see these people who technically looked just like them but who her parents said were unwanted. But if they were so unwanted, why were there parties being thrown for them?
She didn't understand but for one so young, it took little to fully sway her opinions of these new comers the older she became. Coco had never been a fighter, not in all her years of dancing and singing in her over sized sunglasses and cute piggy tails. Yet once the war broke out, the small girl who had flowered into a teenager ready to leave home and make something of herself, felt it all crashing down around her.
She knew it would come. The fights and criticism and somehow, Coco also knew her parents would be right there in the middle of it. When her parents had been killed and her home destroyed, Coco's parents had been plotting the day for weeks, placing her at a friend's house to spend the night and this was also where she learned the news. At exactly 4 a.m., her friend's mother woke the girl up with the terrible news and warning to run as far as possible, onto the streets with nothing but her pajama's and the knowledge she had nothing to look forward to except death or a place in some rat trap street corner.
Since then, Coco changed her name to something new, something to blend in with the human's around her that she picked out in a magazine. She refuses to remember her real name, can't even think of it but the bottle of Coco Channel parfum and the strange cars back on Earth, ferrari's. Really, she did a horrid job of picking an inconspicuous name but it gets her by and that's all that matters for the time being.
Coco had never really been frightened of human's before everything happened but now she's terrified of them, terrified of what they may do to her. She's too scared to hide in the wilderness and too dependent on the things she grew up on, and that's the only thing tying the woman to dirty streets and bars of The Stretch.
These places have become a home for her. Drugs, violence and dancing aren't anything new but a paycheck in her eyes and something to buy her some food when she's hungry and a place to sleep at. Coco's afraid that one day someone will rat her out, turn her over to the SEG and for that reason she keeps her ties with anyone else cut to a bare minimum of business deals. The only ones she trusts are those like herself, the same ones who struggle to maintain existance.
.RP Example.
From another site:
Deep, pounding music blared from the speakers posted in every corner imaginable, sweat-slicked bodies pack dead on top one another as they danced and sloshed beer with the rhythm of music filling their ears. It was Kid Rock's American Badass pounding out, several pairs of boots slamming against the metal bar as five girls danced wildly to the beat. Large pitchers of water flew in every direction, soaking not only the Coyotes' but also the customers filling up for a drink. "Move over, kid." Ana's voice rang against the music, pushing the new girl behind the bar out of the way and slamming down four shot glasses each. "Give me Jack and coke." One man strained to yell over the knocking base, sweat pouring down his face and soaking his once neatly pressed white shirt.
"We don't water down our drinks here, darlin'." With a flick the bottle of jack flipped into the air, several pairs of eyes watching it in rapt fascination as it spun twice and landed back in Ana's hands. The nozzle tipped and whiskey poured across the bar. "Thas three bucks a shot, keep it movin' guys." She plucked the wad of money and slid the glasses down, taking the last and tipping it quick before slamming the glass down with a resounding thud. Several splashes of water soaked her hair as the whiskey burned it's way down, a wolfish grin spreading across her face.
She was too drunk to notice the small group of vampires edging their way along the back corner, or the little wolf girl cradled almost lovingly in their arms. Hell, at this point the roof of her bar could fall down and she wouldn't give half a damn. The thick aroma of human sweat and her clouded mind masked the sickly sweet smell that would normally overwhelm her sense. The bottles kept coming and she kept hitting the cap opener, the thundering boots pounding along as the music switched records and a new song came along with barely a pause in play. It was too late by the time she tripped backwards, stumbling into the freezer door and pushing it open with a loud barking laugh to retrieve another case of 'supplies.' Ana never once noticed the five figures waiting for her alone in the cold freezer room.